


Tell Them To Be Better Than Me

by Pollarize



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Addict With A Pen, Blood, Glowing Eyes, Goner, Guns, Guns For Hands, Hanging, I hate myself, Self Harm, Self-Harm, Suicide, Woops, bit not big, forest, hes not a happy boy, idk if thats a trigger, im fine, not really blood but i kinda imply it a little tiny big, time to say goodbye, too lazy to change, trigger warnings hella
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5207906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollarize/pseuds/Pollarize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler had prided himself on all the little things he did in shows.</p>
<p>AKA fuck you Doodle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Them To Be Better Than Me

**Author's Note:**

> Doodle was rude with her fic so now I'm being rude back.

Tyler had prided himself on the little things he did in shows. It was what he was known for and he couldn’t imagine doing it any other way. There were always things in there, little, tiny, small things that people didn’t notice or brushed off. Those things were his favorite.

~~~

_It’s time to say goodbye,_

_To the earth and now my worthless life,_

__

There was a split second between the lyrics and Tyler lifted his chin to the sky, resting the microphone under it.

But in Tyler’s head he didn’t hold a microphone there, he only held a gun.

~~~

_Don’t let me be gone,_

_Don’t let me be,_

_Don’t let me be,_

__

_I’m a goner,_

__

Tyler holds the knife in his hands, gripping it until his knuckles turned white. He slid it across his throat, the burning of a blade left behind on his skin.

But no blood came because it was all in his head.

He opened his eyes and pulled his hand away and all that was left was a microphone and an audience in front of him.

~~~

_I’m trying, I’m trying to sleep_

_But I can’t, but I can’t when you all have_

_Guns for hands, yeah,_

Tyler’s body shakes, seizing up for just a moment as he raises his hand to his head, placing the microphone to his temple. His body stops shaking as he hears the blast go off.

~~~

__

_But it’s the end of today,_

_End of my ways_

_As a walking denial_

_My trial was filed_

_As a crazy suicidal headcase,_

Tyler holds the microphone over his head as he takes in a deep breath, his head tipping back and his eyes close before it falls forward. He lets it hang there and nobody knows, nobody can see. Nobody sees the way the microphone is the start of a noose.

~~~

_We have romantic fantasies about what dying truly is,_

_To fall off the grid,_

He sat at his piano, the mic pointed at his face. He leaned forward to sing into it, the last words coming out and he opened his mouth, ready to sing the next verse but he paused and let his body slump over the piano.

The bullet wound in the back of his head ached.

~~~

_I know what you think in the morning,_

_When the sun shines on the ground,_

_And shows what you have done,_

_It shows, where your mind has gone,_

_And you swear to your parents,_

_That it will never happen again,_

__

Tyler’s hands were above his head and he dragged the microphone across his wrist. His skin split beneath it and he felt the familiar ache and the pain and the wetness that comforted him.

He dropped his hands and looked at them. The skin was unharmed and his heart was disappointed.

~~~

_We live for the nights decor,_

_It reveals what we dream of,_

Tyler picked his hand up and rested the microphone to his temple. There's a pause and his fingers twitch and the drums beat loudly and it covers the sound. Tyler pulls the microphone back and there's gunpowder staining his fingers.

~~~

__

_Quickly moving towards a storm,_

_Moving forward,_

_Torn into pieces over reasons of what these storms are for,_

_I don’t understand why everything I adore,_

_Takes a different form when I squint my eyes,_

_Have you ever done that?_

_When you squint your eyes,_

_And your eyelashes make it look a little not right,_

_And when just enough light comes from just the right side,_

_And you find,_

_You’re not who you’re supposed to be,_

__

_This is not what you’re supposed to see,_

_Please, remember me,_

_I am supposed to be,_

_King of a Kingdom,_

_Or swinging on a swing,_

_Something happened to my imagination,_

_This situation is becoming dire,_

_My treehouse is on fire,_

_And for some reason I smell gas on my hands,_

__

_This is not what I had planned,_

__

_This is not what I had planned!_

__

The whole verse left Tyler uncomfortable and emotional but it kept building. His body screamed for release and he had tried so many times but he couldn’t.

There was too many people to disappoint and not enough time and it left him frustrated and scared.

His hands were shaking and his whole body was shaking but this time he wasn’t meant to do that. His hands were shaking and the microphone slipped from his hands, crashing to the floor. It screamed into the speakers and Tyler stood there, staring at the floor as he tried to breathe, tried to calm himself.

His hands were shaking and he felt numb.

~~~

That was the first time Josh noticed.

~~~

Josh had seen other performances where the timing and placement of the microphone was just the slightest bit off and the look on Tyler’s face was just a little too out of place.

He always ignored it.

Now, though, he thought over those times and it felt like his throat and chest constricted.

  
Tears stung at his eyes and he felt violently sick.

There were so many warning signs.

~~~

When Josh realized he was just a little too late.

~~~

A body swung from the ceiling, words painted in letters about how sorry he was.

_Tell the Glowing Eyes that it’s never over,_

_Tell them to do better than me,_

_  
I’m so sorry,_

**Author's Note:**

> iM not sORRy iM OKay doNT woRry


End file.
